


Oscar Gets Himself a Coat

by I_Dance_2_Silence



Category: RWBY
Genre: Angst, Anxiety Attacks, Dead End V6E8, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Homeless Shelter, Hurt/Comfort, Lost v6e9, Oscar Pine Huntsmen Attire, Oscar Pine Needs a Hug, Oscar Pine is missing, Oscar Pine looking good, Oscar Pine new outfit, Oscar Pine runs away, Oscar feels alone, Ozpin is gone, When the Voice in Your Head Leaves You, oscar-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-21
Updated: 2020-09-10
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:40:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 20,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26018182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_Dance_2_Silence/pseuds/I_Dance_2_Silence
Summary: Oscar deals with the aftermath of team JNPR's reaction to the information they learned from Jinn by going out and getting himself a coat.Brunswick Farm had been cold, but they were going to Atlas next. As far as Oscar was concerned, Atlas was much colder.Basically, Oscar's adventure when he went missing in volume 6.
Relationships: Ozpin & Oscar Pine, Qrow Branwen & Oscar Pine
Comments: 33
Kudos: 98





	1. Leaving the House

**Author's Note:**

> Oscar thinking to himself is in Italics.

Oscar was hiding safely in a closet at Jaune's sister's house. Once they had made it to Argus, Ruby had just explained to the remaining members of JNPR what they learned from Jinn, and he had honestly wanted to disappear. Being thrown against a wall by Jaune did not help.

Everyone always spoke of Jaune being the weak one, but after that moment, Oscar no longer agreed.

Everything had been a blur since he hit the wall. He hadn't wanted to accidentally run into anyone after they had scattered into their respective brooding locations, deciding to find a place to exist where no one else would find him existing.

He needed to process everything.

He didn't know how to process everything.

Oscar wished he had found a larger closet when the mop slowly slid out of its upright position, nearly whapping him on the head a second time. Curled against the wall and inhaling the scent of laundry detergent, he found himself thankful for the overwhelming soap smell. He had not showered since they had first arrived and if he was being honest, he could probably use a change of clothes.

He made a mental note to wash his current clothes tonight so they would be dry by morning. Realizing he only had three outfits, one of them being sleepwear really gave him a perspective on the necessities of life. Turns out, you only needed three outfits to blend in with modern society, provided you washed what you were wearing every time you switched clothes.

He had never been more thankful for the overbearing cheap cologne he had managed to get for two liens at a market outside of Haven Academy. It was probably the only reason anyone could tolerate being near him.

He wanted to take a shower, but he would have to ask for a towel and soap, as Oscar had been handed these things on his turn in the bathroom a few days prior. They had run laundry right after and Oscar did not know where to find a new towel.

Oscar was not about to go out of his way to find someone to ask. They would either not know, or they would be mad at him for leaving an Oscar-sized dent in the wall, or they would just be mad.

There was a reason he was hiding in a laundry closet, after all. 

The washer vibrated softly, masking a quiet sigh of frustration.

Oscar closed his eyes for a moment, letting himself exist in his self-loathing. Tears built up and fell, leaving wet streaks down his face. _That's a great idea, self, let's just bathe in tears. There is soap next to me._

Oscar exhaled slowly, not letting himself collapse into a sobbing mess. He already looked like a child, there was no reason to act like one.

 _What would Ozpin say to this?_ Oscar found himself asking. Oscar shook his head, pushing the desire for his mental companion away. _If he had something important to say, he would say it._ For now, Oscar would be handling the chaotic emotions spinning in his head like they were in the buzzing washer beside him all by himself.

He had never needed anyone before, right?

 _Maybe I'll feel better once I get up and leave this hole of self-pity._ He forced himself to stand up.

There was a thunk as the mop handle finally hit the wall. _It didn't hit me. Qrow must not be around._

Oddly, the idea of the older man not being around only made him lonelier, even if he had punched him into a tree.

Oscar took another deep breath, enjoying the strong lavender soap smell. _It's the same soap Auntie uses._ Oscar felt the tears stinging in his eyes. _I need to get out of here._

Oscar picked up the mop, pushing a bucket at its base so it would stop sliding. He may not feel welcome here, but that doesn't mean that Oscar was going to forget his manners. _Auntie did always say "leave the place better than you found it."_

He was quick to wipe the tear that fell.

He forced himself to push open the closet door and headed towards the front door, thankful that no one was in the hallway. 

More tears threatened to fall, but he wasn't in the safety of the closet anymore. He was exposed.

Luckily the closet was close enough to the front door to navigate to it through blurred vision.

Pushing the door open, he was immediately hit with the feeling of pure cold. The tear streaks on his face felt frozen. Oscar was quick to engage his aura, but it didn't change the fact that it hurt to breathe.

It hurt to exist.

It hurt to be so **alone**. 

Oscar had been very cold before, back when the train had crashed on the way here. Turns out, walking through snow was not an activity Oscar considered "fun." It was especially not fun in clothes designed for grueling sweaty farmwork. 

Oscar considered pulling up his shirt to trap some of the warmth like a scarf so his throat didn't feel numb with every breath, but he didn't want to deal with the smell. He probably looked as miserable as he felt.

 _This cold breeze is really not matching my farm-boy vibe._ Oscar smirked to himself.

He missed saying snarky things to his Aunt, but he couldn't focus on her. He needed to think ahead, think about Atlas.

Oscar hesitated at the thought that he was headed to **Atlas**. It was only going to get colder. His farm attire consisted of clothing designed to stay cool in the hot sun and right now he needed to keep in the little heat that got through the dark snow-filled clouds. 

He really needed a coat.

Besides, Ruby had been mentioned that combat gear would be a good idea after the Battle at Haven, telling him that she would take him somewhere after they arrived in Argus. Well, they were in Argus. This was the plan, right? 

_I bet she wouldn't want to come now. I don't have Oz who scares everyone into caring._

He knew that wasn't true. At least he hoped it wasn't.

Oscar absently wiped at the icy tear streaks on his face. _It's too cold to be alive._ Oscar didn't resist the shiver and the pang of fear in his chest. 

_It'll never be as cold as my soul,_ he joked to himself. He questioned how he would survive this mess without his sass.

Not that he was being particularly sassy, it just made him feel better to think so.

It was better than admitting to being moody.

A small smile crept onto his face, curling the right corner of his mouth. He couldn't help but wonder if his teenage sarcasm and angst would be meld into Oz's personality when they merged. The idea of the serious and calm voice in his head sassing him for his diet that consisted nearly entirely of pancakes almost made him laugh out loud.

But it also made him lose control of a tear that had been building itself. Oz wasn't there to sass him or even disappoint him with a lack of sass.

Oz wasn't there.

If he were Oz, he wouldn't come back.

He was supposed to be like-minded to Oz, and if he wouldn't come back, why would Oz?

That scared him.

Fear made his heart feel colder.

 _Maybe Oz is already like me- running away from conflict and being moody._ Oscar smirked. _Maybe he's just brooding until the angst wears off._

Rubbing his hands together he built up some heat before warming his nose. It almost felt like his aura wasn't working. He considered flaring his aura, just to be sure, but he didn't want his glow to attract any attention. He was wanted by Salem now, and here he was, trekking through unfamiliar territory, completely restless and feeling even more alone. 

_I'm an idiot. The closet was better than this._ He shook that thought away, wishing Oz was mentally scolding him for his behavior. 

_What if Oz isn't scolding me because he agrees? The Jinn thing was my fault. Maybe I should have listened to him._

Oscar felt his vision blur as another tear slipped from his control.

_Focus, this is a mission. I need to survive Atlas so I need a real coat._

Oscar marched though town, steps jagged and robotic, as he forced himself to keep moving forward. _I look ridiculous. I **feel** ridiculous. Why can't I just be normal for just one minute?_

 _Because I have a voice in my head,_ he argued. 

_But he's gone,_ he countered. 

_Oz, please... I'm sorry..._

Another tear escaped.

Unsurprised by the lack of response from Oz, Oscar kept moving. 

He looked around at all the passing shops, looking for a thrift store or a clothing store. Anywhere that might sell a cheap coat. His marching became normal walking the further he went from the house and he felt more comfortable with each moment. 

Eventually, he stumbled across a store labeled "Everyday Wears" across the top. It snowed in Argus, so they probably had coats.

He pushed open the door, hearing the soft ding from the bell. An old man sat behind the counter, a thick fur coat across his shoulders. The man pushed his thick red glasses up and glared at the boy.

"The homeless shelter is down the road, kid. I don't pay the heating bill for you gay runaways to scare off my customers." The man had a grumpy old voice, in the 'get off my lawn' kind of way. 

Oscar felt his face flush pink, as his eyes meet the floor. It was a nice floor, with real dark wood. At least something about the place was nice. "Uh, I was actually um, kinda hoping to get a coat here?" Oscar stumbled out the words, voice rising in pitch the more he spewed. 

The old man scoffed. "No offense kid, but I don't want whatever you have on those gloves touching my merchandise. They look filthy." He scoffed as Oscar shifted his weight.

Oscar needed a coat. _Stay focused._

"Besides, kid," Mr. Grumpiness blurted, "there's no way **you** can afford anything here. Just scram, scrawny, you're embarrassing yourself."

Oscar made the executive decision to leave. Not because the man scared him off (not that he would admit, anyway), but simply because a man like that doesn't deserve the business. _If he is not interested in my money then why should I be interested in his merchandise? Yeah. That's it._

Oscar almost cursed himself when he arrived at what seemed to be the homeless shelter the man had referred to. Sure enough, he recognized the symbol in the window marking this was a shelter. It was nice that the world had universalized symbols for shelters and care places so there weren't any unclear labeling issues. It was good for the homeless network. But still, Oscar found the symbols unsettling.

There was nothing wrong with homeless shelters or their symbol for that matter, and Oscar had always found their cause extremely noble.

No, he just didn't like the idea of giving that old grump the satisfaction of watching him head that way from the window of his store.

He also didn't like how the woman in the shelter immediately asked if he would like to step inside and warm up a bit. 

_I don't look homeless, right? I'm not homeless, Jaune will let me come back to stay with his sister._

_Right?_

There was an Oscar-shaped dent in the wall. Oscar flinched.

_Right?_

He didn't know why, maybe it was loneliness, that made him follow the woman. She looked young, maybe mid-twenties. She had a sweet smile.

"Would you like a warm drink? I can make tea, coffee, hot cocoa..." She had a soft voice, and it was delicate. Her purple eyes were wide and sad. Oscar felt pitied.

"No thank you." He replied, although not very confident. As much as he wanted a warm drink, Salem was out there, and she was trying to kill him.

He had already run off on his own to go on a shopping spree, there was no need to do anything else reckless.

"We have a fire going if you'd like to sit for a moment. Is there anything I can get for you?" Her voice was calming.

Oscar felt like a child. It was embarrassing but oddly appreciated. "No thank you. I was just out looking to buy a coat. It's... taking longer than I thought." 

Oscar couldn't describe what the woman looked like, but he could describe the floor. It was a chestnut wood with wide paneling. He used to always look at his shoes when he was uncomfortable, but at this point, they were so scuffed up it was pathetic. At least he got to see a variety of woods and tiles when looking at the floor.

 _There would be a variety of faces and people too if I could keep my head up long enough to see them._ Oscar let out a sigh.

The woman smiled, gently coaxing him over to the fire. He sat down on the floor, feeling the radiating heat instantly.

"We give out coats here, actually. Would you like one? It isn't really an issue."

"No, save them," Oscar replied. It was a deflection, and it sounded tired. "I can buy my own. Let someone who truly can't afford one have it."

The woman hesitated. He almost felt guilty.

"Can I make you a deal?" She asked, sadness echoing the simple question.

Oscar felt like a toddler about to be bribed cookies to shut up and behave. She wasn't demeaning, really. He could tell she meant well. He was just... exhausted.

And he hated how obvious it was to her.

When he didn't reply, she continued. "I'll lend you a coat until you can buy one. And then, you can choose to come back and return it. That way you don't get too cold while searching."

Oscar sighed. _She's not letting me leave until I take it, isn't she?_

Oscar nodded, ever so slightly. The woman seemed pleased and left to go get it. 

A teen came towards him from a different hallway. Oscar could see the girl looking at him from the corner of his eye. 

"Dad kicked me out 'cause I have a girlfriend. Most of the teens here are gay runaways, actually, if that sparks your interest. Single too." Her eyebrows wiggled.

It didn't spark his interest. It just made him sad. 

The teen squinted at him. "Looks like you took a beating though from that bandage around your neck. Let me guess, Mommy and Daddy didn't love you anymore?"

Oscar flinched. She looked smug for it, believing she had him figured out. She did not.

"They've been dead for over four years now," Oscar spoke with a quiet urgency.

"Sorry."

"Mhm."

"I'm normally right, but I shouldn't have assumed."

He Mhm'd a little louder. _Assuming crap like that is really cruel, so I'm guessing she's seen some crap. Still, it's really no excuse to be so... assuming?_ Oscar sighed quietly.

"Who beat you up then? I'm not a softie, I can take em down for ya." She had said it so casually like this was normal. _How many people came here from getting jumped for that to be normal? How often was **she** jumped for that to be normal? Yeah, this girl has seen some of the serious crud of humanity._

"If I wanted to fight them I would do it myself," he said coldly, hoping she would shut up. He could resist his harsh reality if he wanted to. Maybe.

She sat next to him. He could feel the pity radiating off of her. _Does she really think I can't hold my own in a fight? I've got farm-boy muscle._

The other woman came back with a coat. The hoodie was olive green, a little worn, but it was a thick enough cotton to be warm. 

"I see you've met Julia." The woman said with a soft smile. The fire gave her face a warm glow.

"Mhm," was all Oscar replied. 

"Is it okay if I ask for your name? I can call you whatever you would like." She had a hand on his bicep. It was caring and warm.

Oscar shouldn't have felt so cold by comparison.

"Qrow." He responded. He smirked to himself. _When the shelters start looking out for a 'Qrow' maybe they can get captain drunk some help._

"Qrow it is." She smiled.

"I'll be back to return this coat." Oscar said, pulling the hoodie over his head. 

"And hey, Qrow?" The woman spoke softly, "If you get lost or forget to return it, it's no big deal, really. I am just happy knowing that you're a little warmer, Qrow."

"Right." _Maybe I shouldn't have lied about the name?_ "Right. Um, any chance there's a place around here that sells huntsman equipment?"

"You don't have to go to a fancy school to learn how to fight. I could teach ya," Julia said, eyebrow raised with a smirk. She almost seemed kind for a moment. _She's made that offer before. Humanity has a long way to go._

Oscar sighed. "I can hold my own. I just got into a fight with a friend. I knew he didn't actually want to hurt me he was just... preoccupied. So I refused to fight back. I left to give him some space," he stated, matter-of-factly. "I'm actually on my way to Atlas."

Both of them stared at the fourteen-year-old in front of them. The woman looked on with pity and Julia with curiosity. 

"I've seen a place like that. If you give me a moment, I can go look up the address. Why don't you stay here a moment longer with Julia, Qrow?" The woman moved and spoke like she was surrounded by a thin layer of glass. It was cautious and fragile. Her purple eyes showed a flaming passion that her body language didn't seem to match. 

The woman had such a gentle mannerism, that it almost startled Oscar when Julia spoke again.

"Atlas, huh? No offense, but you're a little too young to be a huntsman." Julia was a very brash and blunt person. Oscar never really understood those types of people, being of the nervously awkward passive kind himself.

"I'm not, I'm just traveling with some huntsmen."

"Oh."

They sat in silence for a brief moment.

"Why are you traveling with huntsmen?"

Oscar chose to ignore her. She was too blunt for his liking. His nerves were too frayed for this.

He was also getting sick of all the questions.

"That bad, huh?"

Silence.

"You're hiding something."

Silence.

"Oh come on, I won't say anything! I'm just curious."

Silence.

"Are they protecting you from whoever beat you up?"

Silence.

"Did you really lie to Ms. Ollie about who beat you up?"

"I am not a liar," Oscar spat. He stood up. He felt on edge.

"You don't have to lie to Ms. Ollie, she's good with secrets."

"I am not a liar," Oscar repeated, louder, shaking. There was aggression in his voice. Aggression he couldn't turn off.

Julia raised an eyebrow. "I hit a soft spot." 

Oscar consciously reminded himself not to hit her with Long Memory. He took out his weapon, leaning on the cane. It had always calmed him down. _At least it hides the trembling._ He glared at Julia. 

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have pushed it. I'm sorry Qrow, I don't think you're a liar."

Oscar flinched. _I lied. My name isn't Qrow. I'm just as bad as Oz._

He felt like he was hyperventilating. _Jaune was right to punch me. I'm a liar. I'm just as bad as Oz._

Ms. Ollie came back before Oscar could do anything he would regret, and he was thankful.

She handed him a paper with an address on it and underneath were detailed directions to the requested store.

"If you need a place to stay or anything you're always welcome." Ms. Ollie spoke softly, gently. Too gently. 

He didn't deserve her kindness. He was a liar.

Oscar thanked her and hurried out.

The word 'liar' echoed in his head.

He wanted to scream. 

But who would hear him?

He was alone.


	2. The Search

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Team RWBY seeks help looking for Oscar at a homeless shelter.
> 
> Oscar finds a huntsmen store.

Ruby spotted a building up ahead, immediately recognizing the symbol plastered in the window. "Look! A homeless shelter!"

"Ruby," Blake said calmly, "I know Oscar ran off, but I don't think he believes he's homeless. I think he expected the backlash after... well..."

"Just spit it, Blake," Yang spat, annoyed, "there's no reason to pretend we didn't lash out at the kid after Jinn."

Wiess kept her eyes down, not wanting to get between the two.

"Guys, seriously?" Ruby sounded just as frustrated as she did tired. Wiess didn't blame her. "Have you not heard of the homeless network? They probably have eyes everywhere! Besides, maybe Oscar knows they would be a safe place to go?"

"That's assuming he wasn't kidnapped."

"Weiss! Have hope!" Ruby's voice was cracking. Wiess decided not to push it.

Ruby led the team over to the building. The shelter must have had a door cam or something because someone came out to greet them before Ruby could knock. It made sense- they didn't want anyone to chicken out and not knock if they truly needed help. It also felt like there was someone who cared enough to notice someone approaching.

Team RWBY was met by a young adult woman with kind purple eyes.

"Hi! We're looking for someone. Could you help us find him?" Ruby asked, innocently with a smile. Her chipper tone didn't mask the weariness in her voice. 

"That's more of a police thing, darling. This is a place where we let people stay, no questions asked. I would prefer it if people don't come around asking for those who stay here."

"No, ma'am that's not it at all. If he wants to stay here... well I guess I would understand. It's just there are people trying to hurt him and we want to make sure he is okay."

"The police station is just down a few roads. If you need, I can give you directions." Her voice was cold, but not uncaring. It came off as very protective. Although it wasn't helping their case, Ruby was glad for it nevertheless. If Oscar was inside, protection was what he needed.

"Ruby," Wiess cut it, "let's just go. I don't want to make anyone staying here feel unsafe. It's hard enough to run away as it is..."

"But Wiess! I think he has been here! I can just feel it!"

"Ruby, please. Wiess is right, we should leave these people out of it." Blake was the calm one, as always.

Ruby pouted, forcing herself to take a deep breath. "If you see a boy named Oscar, can you tell him his friends are looking for him?" 

The purple-eyed lady sighed. Ruby pushed back the tears in her eyes. She refused to lose hope. Not yet.

"If I see an Oscar, I'll consider it."

"Really? Great! His name is Oscar Pine." Ruby's silver eyes had a glint in them.

"Ruby, I think if he went to this shelter, he would be fine. The manager seems very protective." Yang spoke with assertiveness, attempting to keep up the positivity.

"Yang, he's a 14-year-old farmhand who is completely alone against a literal army of highly trained assassins! We need to find him before..." Ruby lost control of that tear, letting it sting as it slid down her cheek. Keeping up the positive image and staying strong for the team was harder then she wanted to admit, but failure was not an option.

Failure was never an option. She was a leader.

And leaders can't be failures.

"Come on, Ruby, let's keep looking," Weiss pulled Ruby's shoulder gently, guiding her away from the shelter.

"I hope he's okay too, Ruby. We'll find him," Blake added, resolve present, but fading.

"He will be fine. He's no ordinary kid. He's tougher than he looks." Yang stepped up and took lead as they wandered Argus. It was clear Ruby needed to hang back a moment.

One of the teens from the shelter poked her head outside. "Ooh, please tell me they were out looking for Qrow." She punched the palm of her hand, ready to beat the pulp out of someone.

"Julia, get inside." The woman chastised.

Julia was about to protest about how she wanted to jump Qrow's mean 'friends' when Blake spoke up, whipping her head around.

"Wait, did you say Qrow was here?" Her ears perked up as she spoke.

"Geez, he must be really drugged up to end up at the homeless shelter." Blake swatted Yang for her comment, eyes darting to Ruby who probably couldn't handle one more problem.

Ruby shook her head, letting anger fuel her resolve. "We'll deal with Qrow later. Right now, we need to find Oscar."

Ms. Ollie stepped back inside, forcing Julia to come with her. Qrow hadn't seemed on drugs, but in retrospect, he had seemed a bit dazed. It had almost seemed like the boy was lost in his head... His eyes were glazed over like he was on the verge of passing out...

There was no way a boy that small and frail was headed to Atlas... 

His story didn't make sense.

And being on drugs did.

Her instinct hadn't kicked in that he was on drugs though, and her instinct was usually pretty good...

Ms. Ollie gathered some pamphlets on rehabs and handling addiction, just in case Qrow came back. She didn't intend to be pushy, and most people who came through usually needed help with handling addictions. If not for themselves, then most likely the people they were escaping.

She was thankful he had accepted the coat. Accepting help was a good first step.

* * *

The walk was warmer with the jacket.

Oscar was swift to follow the directions he was given. The store before him was smaller than the other clothing store. A sign on the door read "huntsmen and huntresses of all kind are welcome here." The sign above the door read "Gear Against Grim" in buzzing neon lights.

Oscar entered the store, praying this time would go better.

There was a man in his mid-forties behind the counter. Oscar intentionally smiled at him, making an effort to actually see what he looked like. He had deep green eyes and dark brown hair. He had scruff outlining his chin as if he were growing out a beard.

"Are you alright son? You're staring." 

Oscar didn't see the questioning look he was given because his eyes darted back to the floor. It was a super light color, a sandy yellow. The thin wood planks looked old and worn. It was still shiny, though.

"Sorry, sir. I..." _Ooh, what lie now?_ "I am trying to be more confident," Oscar blurted, the blunt truth dropping popping out of his mouth before he could overthink it. "It's not working," he added sheepishly.

The man chuckled. "Well, come on in Mr. Confident, and let's see what I can do for ya."

Oscar realized the door was still open behind him. _I literally just stared this guy down in the doorway. I must seem crazy._ Flushing further, he approached the counter. 

"I like the green jacket, kid. If you're looking for some gear in that color scheme, I can make it happen."

Oscar, too embarrassed to object that this wasn't his usual color just stayed quiet. He really needed to work on being less passive.

"So, Mr. Confident, where are you going to school? Sanctum Academy?"

"No, actually. I'm headed to Atlas. I figured a huntsmen coat would be more durable then a regular coat if I could get one."

"Really? Kudos to you! Very few people get in early to Atlas Academy. Here, I know just what you need."

The man got up and walked to the back, excited. Oscar was left standing there, his mouth completely dry.

_This guy doesn't really think I'm going to Atlas Academy, does he? Not even twenty minutes ago was I being offered lessons in basic fighting because I looked pathetic. Maybe the scuffed up coat made me seem tougher somehow? Maybe this **is** a good color on me..._

The man eventually came back. He had some papers in his hands.

"Oh my, I had so many ideas hit me that I almost forgot to ask you! Do you have your outfit already designed? I don't want to be pushy."

Oscar stared blankly. _T_ _his guy actually thinks I'm going to be an Atlas student._

"Yeah, I've seen that look. No worries! As I said, I've got ideas."

The man began to sketch up ideas on the papers he had brought, looking to Oscar for guidance for what he favored.

Four designs in, Oscar finally gathered the courage to ask, "Sir, how much is this going to cost me? I **was** just hoping for a coat..."

_The last store I walked into sold generic coats and they assumed I couldn't afford them. If he was right... Well, I'm about to look extremely poor._

The man crinkled his eyes, his nose scrunched up. "I can work with a budget. What did your folks give you?"

"Uhh... Can I get a coat here for... seventeen liens?"

The pity in the man's eyes hurt too much so Oscar went back to looking at the old shiny light-yellow wood. _It's a nice floor._

Things were simpler on the farm. Most of the stuff they bought was through traders or the open market. It was high-quality stuff, so he never made a lot of purchases.

He dared to glimpse back up at the man. He flinched and looked back down. The man looked upset.

_So 17 liens is really not enough. Not even close. Got it._

"I'm sorry for wasting your time, sir." Oscar turned to leave, watching the floorboards whiz by under his feet as he walked quickly towards the door.

"Wait!"

Oscar didn't want to wait, but his ingrained sense of obedience to everyone who was tall kicked in and he completely froze in a panic. _Stupid passiveness._ Oscar stood, back turned, completely motionless.

"Kid, where exactly did you get that jacket?"

Oscar felt his face flush. Was there a marking on the back of the jacket so people would think he was homeless and try to help him? Like a secret code between store owners? 

But he wasn't wearing the jacket before... Did he think Oscar had stolen it? Because he liked the green color?

The other store was quick to assume he was homeless... so maybe this area was just high in teenage homelessness? 

He did mention only having 17 lien...

Oscar forced himself to move.

Oscar walked quickly, pushing open the door with more force than was necessary. He needed to ditch this extremely warm and cozy jacket if it had been what made him look homeless. Or look like a thief. 

He didn't want to think about it.

Oscar liked the jacket though and ditching it without getting a new one sucked.

The cold air pulled at his lungs as he breathed in, the tip of his nose numbing.

He engaged his aura for warmth, and it was easier with the jacket.

The jacket he needed to ditch.

This was not a good day.

The store owner followed him, calling out to him to come back inside.

Oscar kept up his pace, trying to not draw attention to himself by moving too quickly.

"I'll give you the jacket for free!" The man called out to him.

Oscar stopped, not backtracking, and turned around. The man looked earnest. Oscar sighed.

"I'm not actually homeless, I'm just borrowing a coat until I could buy one."

_That sounded an awful lot like, "I stole it."_

"Then go return it. I'll give you a new one if you come back to my store in an hour. It's on me kid. You need a real winter coat."

 _You look like you need it._ Oscar jeered to himself.

Was that why Oz left? Because he couldn't stand the pathetic body he was trapped in? He had felt the need to take over at the Battle at Haven...

Oscar shuddered at the thought, pushing it down to the depths of his stomach. 

_Oz doesn't hate me. He doesn't think I'm pathetic._

_He tried to train me!_

_But he didn't trust me against Hazel. He knew I wasn't good enough._

_He had tried to train me and he failed._

_He gave up hope on me once I said Jinn's name._

_I made him hate me._

_I'm a liar just like him._

_I'm just like him, slowly becoming him._

_If he hates me, then does that mean I hate myself?_

Oscar proceeded to push down the vomit that crawled up his throat. He looked pathetic enough already. Besides, he couldn't mess up the jacket he was borrowing.

He had messed up enough.

Oscar didn't look back at the store owner.

Heart pounding, Oscar broke into a sprint, running away from the store, getting lost in the streets of Argus. He eventually collapsed in an alleyway, hiding behind a dumpster and sobbing violently.

He sat there for a few moments until he pulled himself together, wiping his face with his hands. His mind felt blank and empty of all it's residents.

Even with his gloves, his fingers felt numb.

_It's probably because they are wet from sobbing like a moron._

_Wet + Cold = Ice_

_I don't have to ask Ice Queen to know that much._

Oscar chastised himself for calling himself a moron. His Aunt had always hated that word.

He was chastising himself.

Without Oz, he was in a parent-child relationship with himself and himself. 

He wondered if that was what regular people adulthood was like: people parenting themselves.

_Since when did I become an adult, let alone a parent?_

Oscar groaned to himself, missing the ability to act his age.

_Qrow only has meetings with me when my inner adult came out to say hi._

_Qrow won't want to talk to me anymore that I only know how to act my age and not like an adult._

_No adults will want to talk to me anymore now that I am a full-time child._

_There's not even **cows** around to hang out with anymore._

His face was wet and cold- just like how it had felt when the cows would lick his face.

Oscar decided to get up and keep moving- for the cows who had loved him.

_For the cows._

He had left his beloved cows behind, and he wasn't going to render their sacrifice of letting a lickable face leave the farm useless.

Getting up, Oscar was quick to realize he had no idea where he was. Groaning, he knew that he needed to ask directions.

To a homeless shelter.

Oscar parented himself yet again- there was nothing wrong with needing to go to a homeless shelter. It can happen to anyone. It was a good sign- a sign that showed he was getting help.

Besides, the town apparently had a lot of homeless youth. Either that, or he had the jacket that screamed: "help me I'm poor." 

No matter what, help couldn't be too hard to find. 

Oscar approached someone, as casually as he could.

They crossed the street, jaywalking and everything, just to avoid him.

_I just walked out from behind a dumpster, eyes red from having a meltdown, all while wearing the homeless kid uniform._

_No one is going to talk to me._

_No one is going to be near me._

_I probably look like a druggie._

Oscar had never missed cows more.

Cows never judged him for being a mess. They just licked him.

Oscar made his best attempt to walk back in the direction he had come from until a street sign matched one from his written directions. From there he navigated back to the shelter.

Oscar had made it back without having to ask for help.

He was proud to do something on his own.

He just wished that the pride would make the loneliness go away.

Ms. Ollie opened the door for him. Oscar didn't look up at her. He didn't want to know if she expected him to come crawling back or if she was pitying him since he wasn't wearing a new jacket.

"Do you have a minute, Qrow?"

Oscar flinched at the lie. The lie he had told.

"I'd like to hear how your search is going. Did you find the store okay?"

Her words were a distraction as she gently led him inside. He hadn't noticed they were moving until he felt the heat from the fire warming his frozen face. 

He sat on the floor by the fire and tried to tune out the world. It didn't work.

He pulled himself into a ball and cried again. Someone had put an arm around him and sat with him until there was nothing left but dry heaves. When he finally managed to breathe without sounding like he was dying, he looked up at the person holding onto him.

It was a teenage boy, maybe 16 years old, holding on tight to him. He stayed there, even when Oscar pulled his head off of his knees and took deep breaths. 

"Thank you," Oscar whispered. He hated how small he sounded. How small he felt.

"Qrow, I was thinking about what you said happened earlier, and I couldn't help but think that maybe you could use some of these flyers." Ms. Ollie held out some papers to him. "There are some tips for handling conflict, anger management, addictions, and so on. I knew you weren't too comfortable sharing, so I figured I would help you find resources on a variety of topics."

Oscar took the pile of papers, shuffling through them mindlessly. He didn't need them, really, but he knew she was trying to help. He could suck it up and be polite. Being embarrassed would set a poor example for anyone watching. Maybe the kid next to him needed help in those areas. There was no harm in accepting the flyers politely.

Oscar stopped on a flyer on alcohol addiction. There were a few bars listed that offered support for getting off of addictions, claiming that the bartenders were willing to refuse you more drinks if you were trying to reduce your alcohol consumption. 

It was an odd thought that bars were willing to refuse business for the sake of their customers.

They probably got a bonus from some rehab center every time they refused someone drinks.

Qrow was probably at one of the listed bars and he wondered if anyone had mentioned the program to him.

Oscar's eyes lit up as it hit him.

If Qrow could afford that much drinking, he could probably afford huntsmen gear. Money and a friend with a backbone would simplify things.

Oscar never would have guessed it was this difficult to get his hands on a high-quality coat.

_I should have waited and come with Ruby._

Oscar tapped the kid leaning on him so he could sit up freely. He pulled the jacket over his head.

"Sorry it smells a bit like trash," he said, making eye contact with one of the knots in the wooden floor. 

"Keep it, dear. Think of it as a parting gift on your way to Atlas," Ms. Ollie sighed, knowing the kid would be reluctant.

"No, it's okay, really, I'm going to pick up the coat now"-

"Please." She had asked so kindly. Oscar felt a pang of guilt. "Keep it. That way you never forget that there are people looking out for you over here in Argus."

Oscar flushed not knowing how to respond.

"Besides, its always good to have more than one coat."

Refusing her at this point would be futile- Oscar was far too much of a pushover. 

"I would feel better knowing that someone who actually needed it had it." He really had tried to insist.

"If I ever saw someone else in that jacket, I would immediately think of you and worry that you were cold."

Oscar sighed. Yeah, resisting was pointless.

"Besides," the boy next to him spoke softly into his ear, "it looks too dang cute on you."

Oscar felt his face turn bright red as a shiver flew down his back. _Why is everyone here so forward?_

He pulled the jacket back on, wishing it had a hood to hide under. He was beginning to see why Ruby liked her hooded cloak.

"I should get going," Oscar said, a little too quickly. "The order will be ready soon." _If it's even being made._

Oscar thanked them for their hospitality before heading out again.

_I need to find Qrow. Ruby had said she wanted to go shopping for gear with me. Hopefully, Qrow doesn't mind that I ditched her and hoped to spend his money._

Oscar sighed. 

Going around to various bars to find Qrow the first time had been hard enough with Oz.

It was time to be an adult. It was time to go alone.

That's what adults did, right?

Went into the cold, chastising themselves, and pretending they had themselves together. 

If Qrow could be a passable adult, it couldn't be that hard... could it?

Oscar got up to leave, before turning around and wrapping his arms around Ms. Ollie.

He didn't need to be an adult. He could just be him.

14-year-old Oscar.

And 14-year-old Oscar wanted a goodbye hug.


	3. Under the Influence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oscar finds Qrow at a bar.
> 
> Their skirmish does not go unnoticed.

Oscar had been to three bars on his way here, but no luck. He wished Oz was there to recommend Qrow's most likely spot, but he wasn't.

_Maybe Qrow's back at the house?_

_Doing what, staying sober?_

_No, he is definitely out drinking._

This bar was the closest to the house out of all the bars he had visited so far, and Oscar held on to hope that he had found the one. It was still light outside, so the place was practically empty.

"Excuse me, sir? I'm looking for a friend of mine. He went out drinking and I don't know where. I know I am too young to drink and everything, I'm just here to talk to him. Can I come in for a moment just to see if he is here?" Oscar smiled sweetly, knowing that if he sounded too passive he would be rejected. Too aggressive and he might be thrown across the parking lot. 

Getting into bars underage required a mature personality, childlike charm, and the assertive sweet spot.

It was a lot harder to pull off without Oz.

The kid looked innocent enough, so the man let him peek in.

Scanning the room, Oscar was relieved to see the battered red cape.

"I see him, may I go in and talk to him? I won't be too long."

"Let me talk to the bartender. It's the middle of the day, so he might allow it."

Oscar stayed put, as a sign of trust. For all he knew, the man could have walked away and chosen to never come back. Most people weren't that cruel though, and this man probably wasn't an exception.

The man opened the door and nodded, letting Oscar in.

"If you try and pull any funny business, don't think I will be nice."

"I understand sir. Thank you for your kindness."

As Oscar got closer, he confirmed that it was indeed Qrow before sitting next to him. Qrow didn't even seem to notice Oscar's presence. Whether that was a sign of trust from familiarity or Qrow was super out of it, he didn't want to ask.

"Qrow?" Oscar spoke barely loud enough to get Qrow's attention.

"Ya' know, when the bouncer mentioned a kid wanted to see me, I thought he meant Ruby."

_Oh, he told him a kid was asking for him. Makes sense._

"I doubt Ruby would want to see you drinking in a bar. She's dealing with enough as it is."

"Sure." Qrow didn't bat an eye. Oscar wanted to push it but decided this was not the place or the time. _Mission first._

"Ruby wanted to get me gear after we got to Argus and I figured it was a good day to go shopping."

"Mhm."

"Qrow, do you have money I could use to go get gear?"

"Nope," Qrow popped the 'p' just as Ruby frequently had.

"Please? I only have 17 lien on me."

"Shmeh. Even Nora has more money then you an' that kids actually **homeless**. Maybe you can go ask **her** , farmboy."

Oscar huffed. "Well, unlike Nora, I haven't had years to find small jobs and gather money because I didn't plan to become a huntsman. I've only been here for a few months."

Qrow rolled his eyes, ignoring the logic that Oscar, the child, would not have money. "What makes you think I've got cash, kid?"

"Drinking is an expensive hobby. You can lay off a few drinks and not have to worry about me dying as much." Oscar felt like he was scolding the older man.

"Psh, I'll take the drinks." Qrow took a sip.

"Worrying about our safety is probably what's driving you to drink. You'd be a lot less worried if I was a little bit more armored a little less farmboy."

"Pssh. You've lived this long without it, haven't cha?"

"I'm a lot less helpful if I'm barely surviving then I am if I am well equipped." Saying Oscar was annoyed would be an understatement.

"No offense kid, but you're not going to be helpful until Oz comes back. Until then, just keep hiding in the back and let the rest of us handle it."

Oscar flinched at the mention of Oz. Qrow saw it and scoffed, taking another sip.

"We need Oz. Not you."

"Fine!" Oscar had said that a little too loudly.

Qrow looked at the kid curiously. He had expected Oscar to deny it and explain why he was wrong. Was Oz back and he didn't tell anyone? They made eye contact.

"I'll just run off and die and then you can worry about finding the next replacement for Oz to masquerade as. Maybe you'll like him better." The tone in his voice was dark and serious, but he hadn't raised his voice. Oscar's wanted to recoil in panic at his own words, but his perfect posture was unfaltering. The calmest threats always came across as the most severe.

Oscar turned to run off, only to be grabbed by the wrist by Qrow. Oscar glared at the drunk, seething.

Had he meant to say that?

No.

Did he mean it?

He wasn't sure.

Oscar tried to pull his hand away but failed. He could feel Qrow's eyes scanning him. He might have figured out what was going on with the kid if his judgment was a bit better.

Qrow wanted to scream at himself. For drinking, for being a jerk, for failing this innocent child...

"Oscar, don't say things like that."

"You're right, I have to leave you with this weapon. I know the shtick, even if no one bothered to tell me." Oscar unclipped his weapon from his belt, tossing it into Qrow's lap.

Qrow let the drink leave his hand for the first time since he arrived as he prevented the weapon from sliding out of his lap.

Oscar felt the pang of loneliness from letting the weapon out of his possession. Even if Oz wasn't around in his head, something about holding his weapon was comforting, like a physical way to fight back the loneliness. Oscar felt the tears build up again. He was getting really sick of crying like a child. He needed to be an adult.

Qrow panicked when a tear escaped Oscar's eye. Qrow held on tighter to Oscar's wrist.

Oscar stayed focused on keeping his breathing steady. It made him sound angry.

Qrow's grip was starting to hurt so Oscar activated his defensive aura. Qrow noticed, mentally hitting himself for hurting Oscar and a second time because Oscar was pretending he wasn't hurt. The thought that Oscar would rather pretend he was fine then ask for help terrified him in a way he had never been shaken. Qrow mentally hit himself a third time for not noticing something was really wrong with the kid.

Oscar hated asking for things and just took whatever crap they had given him. The kid who asked for nothing and was embarrassed about everything had gathered the courage to look him in the eye and ask for something that would make it easier to survive in the nightmare he had woken up in.

Qrow noticed the jacket, kicking himself a fourth time for not realizing why Oscar suddenly needed gear enough to ask. The farmboy was cold.

Oscar could see that Qrow was lost in thought. He didn't want to know about what. He tried to pull away again but was met with greater resistance. Oscar winced, and that was enough to make his breathing jagged as he was suddenly gasping for air. The tears didn't stop falling.

"Let me go, please. I just want to leave, I just want to let Oz try again, find someone better." Oscar kept tugging at his arm, but it was pointless.

"Stop it, kid, you're scaring me." There was a slight tremble to Qrow's voice.

"What? Scared that if you were able to think straight you would agree?"

Qrow slapped Oscar right across the face. The pain stung. Breathing got harder. Oscar was thankful he had already activated his aura as his face still felt completely numb.

"You know slapping me won't make you any soberer, right?" Oscar was talking through his teeth, feeling dizzy as emotions spiraled in his mind.

Oscar felt terror spike through him as he watched Qrow shake like a small dog in anger and frustration, but feigned confidence all the same. His face was red and tear-streaked, but he still pulled his shoulders back and resumed a fighting stance. He had to be an adult around Qrow, and adults were brave. Adults did what needed to be done.

Qrow let go of Oscar after tugging him onto the stool next to him, putting his elbows on the table and resting his head in his hands. Oscar stared at the shaking man. _Is he... crying? Did I push too far?_

_Or do these people not want me to be as honest as they keep asking me to be? Because if I'm being honest, I feel just as useless as everyone thinks I am._

Oscar stood up. Qrow pushed him back down with one hand, leaving his hand on Oscar's chest for a moment longer than necessary. He wasn't about to let Oscar walk away when he was in this state.

Oscar stared straight ahead like he was angry and annoyed and not crying and terrified. He was the most determined terrified child Qrow had ever seen.

"I..." Qrow's voice trembled. He took another sip from the glass on the table. "How much money do you need?" His voice was soft as he spoke into his hands.

"I don't know." Oscar was proud of how assertive he sounded, even if there was a youthful tremor in his voice. He blamed the crying. "I'm a 14-year-old farmhand, I don't know how much things like huntsmen gear cost."

Qrow couldn't tell if the kid sounded more young or tired. Both worried him. The kid's strategy to life was sheer will power, and with either trait, he was bound to fail. With shaking hands, he pulled out his wallet and fumbled through it.

"Here, kid. This should be more than enough," Qrow pulled out some cash and handed it to the younger boy. "Keep the change, I'll feel better knowing you've got cash on you if something happens."

Oscar took the money, counting out ten bills worth twenty each, putting it carefully in his wallet, not wanting to know why Qrow had that much cash on hand, and hoping the reason was at least legal. "Thank you, Qrow."

"And hey, Oscar? I'm sorry for hitting you. I just... freaked out. I do care about you, kid." Qrow picked up the weapon and handed it back to Oscar, who clipped it back on his belt.

Oscar sighed, not sure if he wanted to believe the drunk or if he even cared to try. He wiped his face with his hand, finally calmed down again.

"Pull out your scroll." Oscar pulled on his adult voice, resolve in his eyes.

Qrow didn't question him.

"I'm going to set an alarm on your scroll, I want you to be home in time for dinner. You've worried us enough."

Oscar took the scroll once Qrow had unlocked it and set an alarm for thirty minutes before their usual dinner time.

"Since when did you become the responsible one?" Qrow had tried to lighten the mood with a gentle tease.

It didn't feel like a tease and it hurt.

Oscar was just not in the mood.

Qrow sighed, taking another swig.

"You need to stop drinking."

"Better men have tried to make me."

"I'm not saying entirely, although that would be nice. I'm saying, you need to stop drinking tonight. You already reek enough." Oscar hated being responsible and serious, but it was called for.

"No worse then you do, kiddo. What did ya do? Take a nap in a garbage truck?" Qrow hated the coldness in Oscar's eyes. The kid was normally being gawked over for being excited and embarrassed and adorable. This seriousness didn't match the natural nature of the kid.

Frustrated that Qrow wasn't taking the hint, Oscar pulled the flyers out of his pocket, flipping to the one that had caught his eye before. "Hey! Do you guys have this program here? This man doesn't need any more drinks tonight."

Qrow hissed at Oscar but regretted it the moment he saw the look in Oscar's eyes. The boy was determined, that was for sure. Qrow couldn't ignore the fear that Oscar was trying not to acknowledge. He was probably afraid Qrow would hurt him again. Qrow shivered. For the kid's safety around him, maybe he **should** stop drinking.

The bartender looked over, nodding, and told him he would only serve the older man water for the next hour since the program only worked if the drinker, Qrow, had asked to be stopped. He still agreed to bend the rules and get the man something else in his system.

Oscar didn't know too much about drinking before he met Qrow, but if the bartender knew Qrow needed to stop and was willing to bend the rules for him, Oscar was deeply concerned.

Qrow puffed out an annoyed scoff. "You don't need to take care of me."

"I started taking care of **you** the moment **you** stopped taking care of **me**."

Qrow was shaking again. That statement was far too sobering for his liking. He took another swig, nearly dropping the glass. Oscar sighed. 

Being the adult around here sucked.

The bartender came over to the two with two cups of water. Oscar looked up at the man and thanked him.

"I'm glad I let you in here. I think you both needed it."

Oscar felt his face flush. _Next, I need to work on not getting flustered so easily._ At least he was making eye contact with a stranger. That was progress. 

In fact, he couldn't describe the floor. He had kept his head up the whole time!

_Maybe I can, out-adult Qrow._

Oscar wished that thought hadn't come through his brain. He didn't want to out-adult Qrow. Adulting sucked. He wanted to be a kid.

But Oz wasn't here to let him, so adult he would be.

Oscar asked the bartender for a pen, writing the address they were currently staying at on a napkin.

"If you get too drunk, just show people the napkin. Hopefully, someone helps you back to the house."

The bartender noticed that Oscar didn't call the place home. Given this customer's drinking habits, and their squabble he wasn't too surprised. He wasn't sure if he regretted not intervening. He would definitely make note of this encounter in case something else happened later. If this was more than a disagreement that went too far, the more that was on record the better.

"Can I help you with anything, Oscar? I'll take care of Qrow here so don't worry about him. I'll use my break to drive him home if I have to." The bartender spoke softly, the all too familiar pity in his eyes.

 _He was listening in. He learned our names. He has our address. What if the police show up later?_ The bar had fake wood floors. Oscar internally kicked himself for looking down. He had been doing so well. He forced himself to look up, drawing in a deep breath.

"Could you give me directions to Gear Against Grim? I need to pick up an order there." Oscar felt completely drained. It took too much effort to sound confident all the time.

The man wrote some directions on a different napkin, mentioning other landmarks as he wrote. 

Oscar gave the man a soft smile, thanking him. He was presently surprised by how kind the bartender was.

_He's probably going to call child protection on us. He's probably just trying to make me feel safe so I spill what's going on._

"Qrow, be home by dinner. Please."

Oscar figured it was better if Qrow was home in case the police **did** show up.

Qrow didn't look at Oscar and didn't have the strength to open his mouth to say goodbye. Oscar just got up and left. Qrow buried his head in his arms, wishing he was drunk enough to stop the silent tears from falling.

Once Oscar had left, the bartender decided to make a call. He was glad he had listened in. The bar was empty at this hour of the day anyway, so it wasn't like he was ignoring his duties.

Flipping through the address book, he found the nearest homeless shelter and made a call. The fact that the kid didn't call the place he was living his home, and the fact that he had wandered around trying to find his caretaker at various bars only to get slapped before getting directions to go somewhere else independently, left behind many red flags.

* * *

Ms. Ollie's scroll let out a jingle. The caller ID read "Bart's Bar." One of the kids must have tried to smuggle a beer again and gotten recognized. Sighing, she picked up the phone.

"Hey Bart, how are things?"

"Good afternoon, Ms. Ollie. I was wondering if you have met a Qrow? I definitely heard him say the word homeless, but it seems like they had a place to live. Something just happened and I figured you might have some insight. Oh, and if it helps, he was with an Oscar?"

"Oh, dear. I do believe I have met them. Some other kids came by looking for an Oscar, actually, but I've only met Qrow. By any chance, did Oscar look like a 14-year-old farmhand?"

"That's the one."

"Right. What about him?"

"Well, Oscar showed me a flyer from that new rehab program and tried to get Qrow to stop drinking. It's not exactly a well-advertised program. I'm assuming someone came by earlier?"

"Yes, I handed a bunch of flyers to Qrow when he was last here. Did Qrow get drunk?"

"No, not quite. But after that, I wouldn't be surprised if he did."

"After what? Mind if you tell me exactly what this is about?"

"Oscar showed up to my bar, looking for Qrow. They got heated and Qrow smacked him on the smoocher. I am debating what my next best move is."

"Well, if they got into a fight like that, I wouldn't be surprised if Oscar shows up looking for a place to sleep."

"Nah, I doubt it. Oscar made a clear effort to take care of Qrow. Oscar didn't escalate, and Qrow immediately apologized. It's like they expected to get violent but still knew that their behavior was not okay. I'm not sure what to think. Oscar wrote an address to one of the townhouses on a napkin for me to make sure Qrow got back safe. I bet they're living together."

"You don't think that arrangement will last."

"I'm not sure how bad it is, but I figured I'd ask around. If the kid was thinking of running away, he'd start looking around- either to convince himself he should stay or go."

"Right. If I see Oscar, I'll be as welcoming as usual."

"Maybe go a little extra on the kindness. I've never seen either of them, and Qrow is clearly a regular if the kid's first instinct to search for him was to go to different bars. They must be new around here, and I wanted to get them on your radar."

"You want me to keep an eye on them?"

"Things got violent real quick. If Oscar had escalated, I'd be breaking up a bar fight. I don't think I've ever broken up a fight at this hour. Just wanted to let you know if either of them heads your way, keep them separated. Oscar seemed used to Qrow getting drunk and violent and that worries me. The kid just seemed so fragile..."

"Right. If Qrow comes back, I'll talk to him again."

"Qrow's too drunk, the only place he's going is back to wherever they're living. I'm more worried about Oscar."

"Is that so?"

"Complacency with living with a drunk who hits you is a pretty big red flag. The kid seemed far too mature for his age as if he was used to fending for himself."

Ms. Ollie sighed. "Qrow had mentioned that a friend of his had hit him when he came by. Maybe the two just got into a fight?"

"It certainly seemed tense. If I learn anything else, I'll update you. If either of them comes by for the night, call me. I want to give you backup in case things get violent."

"Of course Bart. Thank you for looking out for me, but I think my other kids would give him a good fight."

"I don't know about that, Qrow seems pretty tough. If this Oscar kid is used to taking hits from him, I think it's for the best you have another adult around to at least call for back up. You know I'd close this bar at any moment to take care of you guys over there."

"If you're that worried, I'll call."

"Promise?"

"Promise. If either of them comes by again, I'll call."

"Thank you. That makes me feel a lot better."

Ms. Ollie hung up, pinching the bridge of her nose. Qrow must be really good at hiding how intoxicated he was for her not to have noticed it twice. Perhaps he was still sober when he came by? 

This whole situation was concerning. She hoped she could help the two boys sort out whatever it was, but if they got violent...

Ms. Ollie sighed, deciding it was best for the other kids to be aware that one of the students who had come by had a history of drinking and violence, just to have an extra set of eyes and ears helping around.

She knew the kids would protect each other and weren't afraid to report if they saw each other on any form of drugs. Qrow may be a bit newer to the group, but she figured it would be prudent to get him on her watchlist, ASAP.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, another chapter! This is fun! (For me, not the characters. I think I have made all of them miserable.)
> 
> Hopefully, I can finish this story before classes pick up. I originally intended this to be 3 parts, but I'm loving how it's turning out! More to come soon! (Hopefully)


	4. Achievement Unlocked: Coat Aquired

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oscar gets validated while testing out a new outfit.

Oscar now had 217 liens in his wallet. It was comforting in the sense that he could definitely buy that coat, but terrifying in the sense that if he got mugged, he would have a lot to lose.

_I'm training to be a huntsman and here I am worried about getting mugged. I'll be fine._

He followed the directions on the napkin, feeling a sense of pride when he was able to spot a landmark that the nice bartender had mentioned. He felt like a kid at a candy store, gawking at all the statues and monuments around him. 

He recognized one of the monuments as the largest one created after The Great War. He stopped for a moment to admire it. The books he had read did not do it justice. He was glad the directions took him the scenic route.

Once he spotted the store, his stomach filled with dread. He had run out rather quickly last time he was here. Was that guy still mad at him?

_If he thinks I stole the jacket, what is he going to assume about me suddenly acquiring 200 liens out of thin air?_

Oscar took a deep breath, choosing to be optimistic.

_I bet he will understand that I just simply didn't know the price. He seemed like a very nice person._

Still, it took Oscar a lot of strength to walk into the shop.

"Hey, Mr. Confident! I was worried you weren't coming back!"

Oscar smiled, faking confidence and hoping that he had been worried for nothing.

"Good to see you again, sir. I asked one of the guys I'm traveling with for some cash. He's a huntsman, so I should have more than enough to get good gear. Sorry about earlier, I just kinda... freaked?"

The man laughed at the kid's honest bluntness. It made Oscar chuckle. The guy had a big laugh, and it suited him. Oscar approached the counter, sitting down at the same stool he had before.

"That coat of yours is done. You want to see it?" The man wiggled his eyebrows at him.

Oscar giggled and nodded.

_He doesn't seem mad at all. Maybe I really did just freak out._

The man stepped into the back, coming back out with an Olive green formal coat on a hanger. It was long in the back, and it dangled elegantly on the coathanger. The front was buttoned up with round gold buttons. The sleeves reached just beyond the elbow mark, just as Oscar's current shirt did, and the trim was a darker green. That same dark green was in the collar.

Oscar's eyes went wide. "That's gorgeous!"

The man laughed at the shock on Oscar's face. "It's a start, kid. It's a little too clinical to fit your personality but I figured it would work if you just needed a sturdy coat. Now if you want to invest a little, I can modify it a bit to be more of your style."

"Wait. You were seriously willing to give me that for free? That's way too nice to just give away!"

The man chuckled. "Someone else ordered it but didn't like the color. I already had it made, so I wasn't about to scrap it. I give away unwanted or outdated combat gear all the time to new students at Sanctum Academy. When I saw you walk in with that color jacket, and you wanted to go to the professional world of Atlas, I knew this coat was finally going to see the light of day."

_If it was already made, why did he tell me to come back in an hour? Was he trying to get me to cool off, or did he make that jacket just for me?_

Oscar beamed at the older man. Either way, it was sweet.

"So that being said, let's talk combat gear."

Oscar raised an eyebrow. "Isn't that enough combat gear?"

The man chuckled. "It'll do in a pinch Mr. Confident, but I'd rather get you some real protection."

"Can you stop calling me Mr. Confident? It's weird."

"Well, it's not exactly like I know your name."

Oscar flushed, but refused to look down in embarrassment. "Oscar. Oscar Pine." He extended his hand.

"Mr. Anderson."

They shook hands, a smile not leaving either of their faces, however sheepish their smiles might be. Everyone was just happy that things were going smoother this time around.

"I'm glad to finally have a name for that pretty smile of yours, Oscar."

Oscar rubbed the back of his head, one of his most infamous nervous ticks.

"Since you're going to Atlas, I figured you'd want a more sophisticated design. How do you feel about fighting in a full suit?"

_Hadn't Oz worn a suit? Maybe Oz would like me a bit more if I looked a bit more like him. I mean, green was his color._

"That would be cool, I think." If he was going to merge with Ozpin, he might as well look the part, right?

Mr. Anderson was too excited to sketch up some designs to realize Oscar had drifted off into his own thoughts.

"I'm thinking we get some long black gloves that go all the way up to the end of the coat."

"Actually, I'd like to keep my gloves."

"That exact pair, or that color?"

"The color at the least. Its... sentimental."

"Sure thing. It's a big difference to all the green though. Maybe we can add in some more orange..."

The man sketched with great passion. Oscar zoned out while he waited.

"Do you mind if I add in a third color? Maybe red? I've got some orange and red boots in the back that would work. They look about your size."

Oscar shrugged. "I like red."

"Hmmm, we still need more orange. How do you feel about a cummerbund?"

"I'm sorry?"

"Do you know what a cummerbund is?"

"No."

"It's like a sash, but it's worn like a belt. It's a fashion thing."

Oscar shrugged, trusting the older man's fashion judgment. "I like belts."

"Really? I can work a few more of those in, might help keep the coat more form-fitting until you grow a bit more into it."

The man went straight back to work. Oscar watched the man erase some lines between the gloves and the coat.

"I kind of like the way the eraser marks look. Is that weird?"

Mr. Anderson chuckled. "I can work something like that in."

Oscar smiled at the final design. "I like it. How much would it cost?"

"Lots of Atlas people come through here, so if you're okay with me reusing discarded pieces, for the most part, I think I could cut it down to... let's see... carry the one... mmm... let's say 17 liens." Mr. Anderson smirked.

Oscar giggled. "It's okay sir, I was given some more money."

"Well then, I'll let you decide how much of that you're willing to part with. Anything over 17 liens is a tip and not required. Does that sound like a deal?"

Oscar beamed at the older man. _Some people really know how to make humanity feel worth saving._

They shook on it and the man headed to the back to grab some of the pre-made pieces he had mentioned. "Let's get you fitted, shall we?"

He led Oscar into a section of the backroom. It was completely closed off with no windows, and there was a table with some sewing gear on it next to a standing mirror.

Oscar put on the coat, and Mr. Anderson pinned it to the right shape, giving Oscar plenty of room to move and grow.

"I'm going to hem this up and sew on the shoulder pads. Why don't you put these on?"

Oscar took the shirt and pants and went into the changing room switching outfits. The shirt was a bit baggy and the pants were too long. Oscar giggled. He felt like a child trying on adult dress-up clothes and he loved it.

He couldn't keep his brain from wandering to the time he had put on a fake fireman hat and turned on the irrigation system as if he was saving the farm from an invisible fire.

The time he had put on a bandana like a bandit to prove to his aunt that it was easy to break into the farm, just to be flanked by a tickle attack.

The time he had dressed up as a huntsman so he could act out his favorite bedtime story to his neighbor whom he was babysitting.

The time he had worn his aunt's dress because she had prohibited him from using the oven. Pretending to be his aunt, the person who could use the oven, was the best rule he had ever bent. Pulling that casserole out of the oven for the first time was a moment of sheer pride. He was having so much fun, he had acted like her until he was forced to put his pajamas on that night.

_That was a good day._

_Dang it, now I want to make a casserole._

He poked his head out the door, letting Mr. Anderson know he was dressed and waited patiently.

_I wonder if Oz ever has memories like that and just can't act on them._

_I wonder if he's ever wanted to do something again like the good old days, but couldn't because he doesn't have his own body._

_I wonder if when he assumed my memories, they made him want to make a casserole just like they did for me._

_Well, Oz, if you do, let me know. I would be happy to make a casserole with you._

He wondered if Oz heard his offer. 

He wondered if Oz would ever want to make a casserole with him.

Mr. Anderson wandered in, the coat in hand. He had sewn a piece of red cloth over a new set of shoulder pads and added some more gold buttons. It made the coat glitter in the light just a little bit.

"I love it!" Oscar grinned, eyes sparkling along with the coat.

Mr. Anderson grinned back. He loved a satisfied customer. Oscar's smile was worth more than any lien he had spent on the materials. Most customers didn't react until they saw the final product in its full form, and here this kid was, pant's hanging off of him, grinning like he had won the lottery.

He grabbed the sewing supplies, asking Oscar to stand up straight, just so he could make his plans for adjustments. 

Oscar watched the man work, as he safety-pinned the things at the right heights. He then asked Oscar to change back to his normal clothes so he could go and hem things up.

Oscar waited patiently until he was handed the clothes back.

"I didn't cut the fabric, so if you start outgrowing, take it to a tailor. They should be able to move the hemlines so that it still fits."

Oscar nodded, thankful the man had thought ahead. He was still a growing boy and that sounded like a cost-effective solution to growth spurts.

Mr. Anderson asked him for his shoe size and then scurried off again.

Oscar got dressed and looked in the mirror. He felt good. He looked good.

The professional attire and clean lines would probably blend in with the militaristic environment of Atlas. Except for the vibrant color, of course.

Mr. Anderson came back with a pair of red lace up boots with an orange toe. He set them down with a new pair of gloves and immediately left again. Oscar put them on.

He couldn't stop smiling as he wrapped the dark green laces around his hand in his usual fashion, attaching the end of the ribbon to the coat sleeves. The new gloves were less worn and felt soft. The gloves had a different cut, and they felt stylish.

_They weren't kidding about a change of clothes doing wonders for a change in attitude._

Mr. Anderson came back, a bright orange piece of material in his hand. "I almost forgot the cummerbund!"

He helped Oscar put it on. It made him go from professional to... spiffy. 

He whirled around and pulled Mr. Anderson into a tight hug.

He chuckled in response, rubbing the boy's back.

"Woah there Mr. Confident, at least let me make sure it's ready for combat before you pay me."

When Oscar let go, he was practically glowing.

Mr. Anderson tussled Oscar's hair and headed over to the table he was working at before. The boy was a real gem when he was confident and happy. He couldn't help but wonder why he was behaving so strangely when they first met. The kid seemed much more at ease now.

Whatever miracle it was, he was thankful for it.

Oscar was bouncing on his toes, unable to contain his enthusiasm and it was adorable. Mr. Anderson resisted hugging the kid again.

Mr. Anderson passed him a few belts. 

"I left a few places on your combat gear a bit on the looser side, just because that's where you'll probably grow first. No reason to spend money on a tailor too soon, right?"

Oscar wrapped the belts around him, making the clothes feel a bit more snug. He clipped Long Memory onto his new belt.

"Are you sure you don't want to fasten the coat? That's what I had designed it for."

"I like it open." Oscar popped the collar up and smirked, as it fully surrounded the bandages on his neck. He let his main belt sit unevenly on his waist. _Now I look like a force to be reckoned with._

Mr. Anderson smiled behind him, watching the kid smile into the mirror. "Come on, champ, I've got a combat testing room. Let's see how it feels when it gets moving."

Oscar would have rolled his eyes if anyone else had called him 'champ' but in this case, it just made him smile. Deny him, but Mr. Anderson was giving off some solid 10/10 dad vibes.

_I wonder if Oz likes the new suit._

_Well, we are like-minded, and I love it._

_So Oz must at least like it, right?_

Oscar forced himself to snap out of it. This wasn't **Oz** time, it was **Oscar** time, and if Oz had something to say he could say it later.

He had waited this long.

They entered a large empty room at the far back of the shop.

"Alright, Oscar. I want you to do your normal stretching routine, just to make sure you aren't tearing any seams. I want to be sure that it's entirely flexible."

_I wrapped myself in belts to make it form-fitting, where exactly would it tear from being overstretched?_

Oscar did as obliged anyway, doing his usual warm-up before training. It felt relaxing to just stretch in fancy clean clothes.

It took him a moment to realize Mr. Anderson was copying him, and he froze.

"What? Did you want me to just stand here and stare at cha? That would be awkward! Besides," Mr. Anderson grinned, "it's fun to try a variety of warm-up routines."

It was nice to just stretch with a friend. He hadn't done that since they were training back at Haven. Townhouses were not exactly ideal for combat practice, although he still stretched every morning just to stay limber.

_It's not like anyone would want to train with me anymore after everything that has happened since. The fact there's no space to train is probably just an excuse to avoid me._

Oscar shook away the thought.

Once they finished stretching, they moved on to basic weapon practice. 

Mr. Anderson used a tube of gift wrap to copy Oscar's cane movements. "I do gifts, ya know. Lots of parents surprise their kids with an outfit for special occasions. It's actually where most of the extra pieces I have come from. Parents aren't always the best at knowing what their kids like. I do free exchanges."

Oscar just laughed freely as he showed his 'cane' partner the different moves and forms. They were both amused by it.

"When you're ready, Oscar, we'll move on to the next thing."

"Next thing? What else do you do to test combat gear?" Calm and curious. Oscar was finally in his natural state.

"Well, you can't know if it's combat-ready until you give it some combat. Up to spar?"

Oscar grinned. "Only if you don't go easy."

"I doubt I'll need to." Mr. Anderson took his position across from Oscar. "Whenever you're ready, Mr. Confident."

Oscar charged with a jab and was blocked by the tube of wrapping paper.

"Wait, you're actually fighting with that?" Oscar stopped, putting away his cane after deciding him being weaponless made it more of a fair fight. This guy was just a tailor.

_I wonder if someone's pulled a real weapon on him and did not stop. Has he ever gotten injured from this?_

Mr. Anderson whacked him in the side. "Get your head in the game, kid. I can take ya."

Oscar ducked the next strike and moved in with a tickle attack. 

The gift wrap nearly swept his legs from under him as he did a back handspring over it. The point wasn't combat training but to push the limits of the suit. Dodging would do that.

Oscar decided to show off his agility instead of trying to attack back. This was for suit testing, after all.

He continued to dodge the attacks, being extra in his movements throughout the encounter. He felt like he was breakdancing in a choreographed fight. It was fun.

Mr. Anderson signaled him to stop, so he did.

"You've got skill, kid. Most kids who come through here at your age take a lot more damage. I'm impressed."

Oscar smiled. "Your cane form is pretty solid. A few more sessions and you'll be a real huntsman." He winked.

The two laughed and filled with pride. Different reasons but the same silly smile.

"You've got a firm grip on the basics, great posture, and a great attitude. You're going places, Oscar. Just do me a favor and don't forget me." Mr. Anderson winked back.

"Psh, how could I, measly Oscar Pine, forget you? You were ready to take down a fully armed opponent with a tube of wrapping paper! You're a legend!"

The duo laughed. Oscar's face hurt from smiling so much.

Oscar pulled out his wallet. "Here." He counted seven of the twenty bills and a single one bill. He wrapped the twenties in the one. "Seven one bills and a ten. That's 17 liens." In reality, there were 141 liens in total. Oscar didn't feel bad for lying.

The man smiled softly. 

"And here's a little extra." He wrapped Mr. Anderson in a second hug, not giving him the chance to notice the bills were not as he was told.

"Am I going to see you again before you leave for Atlas? I would love to finish my cane training."

"I hope so, but I doubt it. It was risky enough for me to leave the group I'm traveling with."

"Ah. I'm sure the Grimm didn't happen to have attacked while I was borrowing you."

Oscar just smiled, snuggling deeper into the man's chest. _With their luck, it wouldn't surprise me._

Mr. Anderson felt like the luckiest man alive to have met such a sweet kid. Most people that came by were either children with dreams higher than the moon or soldiers from the Argus base and they were never happy about anything.

"Someday, if you ever get the chance, swing by here. I'd love to see how much taller you stand with a real huntsmen license."

Oscar giggled. "I'd like that."

Oscar broke off the hug.

"Aww, leaving so soon?"

"I've been gone long enough. Thank you, again, for... everything. You've been incredibly kind to me."

"Anyone in their right mind would be nice to the greatest person in the world."

Oscar flushed. "I don't know about all that, Mr. Anderson."

"You don't have to be famous to be the greatest, Oscar. I don't mind making it our little secret."

Oscar smiled through the blush spreading over his freckles. "Goodbye, legendary wielder of wrapping paper."

"Goodbye, Mr. Confident."

Oscar left the store with a lopsided grin on his face. He really did feel like Mr. Confident.

_I bet Ms. Ollie would love to see the new suit._

Oscar headed towards the homeless shelter, an aura of confidence guarding his smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm assuming the orange piece between his dress shirt and pants is a cummerbund as I really don't know what else it would be.


	5. Headed Places

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oscar shows Ms. Ollie his new coat! 
> 
> Phone calls are made, people are upset.
> 
> Oscar decides to go home.

Oscar made his way back to the shelter with ease, not even looking at his directions as he walked. _I'm really learning the area! Maybe I'll invite the others to go meet some of my new friends!_

_Would they like that?_

_..._

_I snuck off and went to a homeless shelter, maybe I shouldn't lead with that. They might try to get me to stay there permanently._

_..._

_They would probably like the statues in the city. They don't seem like history people though._

_Maybe I'll introduce them to Mr. Anderson. Maybe he can patch up their gear?_

_No, they probably do that themselves. Do I need to know how to do that?_

Even as his mind raced with future plans, Oscar couldn't stop smiling and it was starting to hurt.

He arrived at the shelter, being greeted at the door by Ms. Ollie. 

_I bet she's so proud._

"Can you come in for a moment? I have something I'd like to talk to you about."

 _Did she really not notice the new clothes? I look like a boss right now._ "Sure," Oscar nodded, smile slowly fading. _Does she not like it?_

She motioned for Oscar to sit on the couch, and he did. She sent a message on her scroll before making eye contact with him.

Oscar's posture almost felt overcorrected as he perched on the edge of the sofa. Concern was written in his eyes.

"Qrow, why were you at Bart's Bar?"

"I was looking for... uh..." _Well, I can't say Qrow. A friend?_

"A drink?" She suggested.

"Uhh, yeah. I went in to get some water." _Well that worked. A small lie, but it worked._

"I got a call from Bart. Can you tell me what's going on? Is Oscar the guy who hit you earlier?"

Oscar blinked. _It's better than child protective services so I guess its fine? How the heck am I going to explain this?_

Ms. Ollie sighed. "That's all I needed to know. I want you to stay here tonight."

Oscar's eyes went wide. _Oh snap. I really need to fix this._ "I'm sorry, I lied, I'm"-

"Qrow." Her voice was demanding. 

Oscar felt a chill run down his spine.

Her eyes pinned him in place. "I know what happened."

"No offense, ma'am, but I don't think you do." Oscar tried to sound calm. His voice wavered slightly.

"I want to know why you hit Oscar, Qrow."

_I don't think I can fix this._

"Qrow, I understand we haven't known each other very long, but I'm very worried. I just want you to be safe."

Oscar opened his mouth but no words came out.

"I know you're not sober right now, and I'm not mad. You're not the only person who has come in here with addictions. Just please, I can't help you without knowing the full picture."

"It's not what this looks like!" Oscar blurted, wishing he could take it back. But his mouth kept moving. "Our relationship has had its ups and downs but we take care of each other! Things are just tense, but it'll get better! And I'm completely sober thank you very much!"

"Qrow, please just"-

"I just wanted to show you the new coat I got!" Oscar stood up, arms flailing like wet noodles for emphasis. "I really really like it and I'm super happy but you're not happy and I just want to be happy and"-

Ms. Ollie grabbed him on the wrist, successfully getting him to stop flailing.

It came at a high cost.

Oscar felt the flood gates open again and the world got blurry. The green jacket he had been carrying was left behind on the couch as Oscar grabbed his old clothes pile and made a mad dash for the door. If someone had tried to stop him he didn't notice.

Oscar kept running.

He probably would have kept going if he hadn't been grabbed by a taller man.

Oscar elegantly flailed off his assailant, throwing his limbs around in an organized chaotic fashion, trying not to drop his original clothes.

"Oscar!"

Oscar stopped flailing and looked up at the familiar voice. _Oh, it's that nice bartender. Bart, according to Ms. Ollie._

Oscar just looked up at the man with beady eyes.

"Are you alright kid? Ms. Ollie from the shelter just called and said Qrow had just had a freak out moment and ran. You're not running from him, are you?"

Oscar who had now been forced to stop and the process was easily able to escape the hold he was in and he continued running. 

He heard the bartender call out to him, but he didn't care. He had screwed up.

_I can't blame Oz for this one. I chose to lie._

_I thought it would be nice to have the homeless network looking around to help someone named Qrow and now I've made this into a nightmare._

_All it takes is one lie to make the world fall apart._

_Lying has only ever gotten me hurt- literally._

_Not even lies to help someone are safe._

_White lies aren't any better._

_I'm never lying again._

_If I can add anything to this mix of souls, I'd like for my contribution to bring up the average honesty level._

_The cycle of lies ends here._

_From this point forward I will not lie._

With this revelation in his eyes, Oscar looked around him.

_Where am I?_

* * *

"I ran into Oscar on my way here. He was frantic and crying and when I mentioned Qrow he flipped out. What the heck is going on?" Bart was extremely concerned at this point, and his eyebrows refused to leave their scrunched state.

"Why didn't you follow him?" Ms. Ollie paced behind the couch.

"You said Qrow was here! I wanted to make sure you were okay."

"Qrow didn't stay long and he even left the coat I gave him here."

"Wait, what?"

Ms. Ollie held up the coat and wondered how badly Qrow must have needed a shower to get a jacket to smell this foul only after a few hours.

"That's the coat Oscar was wearing."

"What?"

"Yeah, that's what Oscar was wearing when he came in. Qrow had already been at my bar for a few hours when he came in, so I don't know how they exchanged jackets..."

"What's more unbelievable is how you bought Qrow's fake ID! He is hardly even a teenager!"

"The guy in his forties?"

The two adults made eye contact, both equally confused. 

Ms. Ollie reached for her scroll to pull up the camera footage. Perhaps there were multiple Qrows in town?

Just as she reached for it, she got a call. She picked up.

"Hello? This is Kurt Anderson. I've been calling around to different homeless shelters as a kid just came into my store today and I think something was off. He had the green jacket so I know he has been in a shelter somewhere around here. Any chance an Oscar Pine has been to your shelter lately?"

* * *

Oscar roamed the streets of Argus, hoping for any sign of a familiar landmark. At least he blended in a bit better with the new outfit.

He eventually asked for directions to his neighborhood, not wanting to give an exact address. Using this method, he was able to get close enough to the house to have recognized the area from their walk back from the military base. Oscar navigated his way to the house.

It took a lot of courage to knock on the door.

No answer.

_Are they ignoring me?_

After a few tries, Oscar jumped the fence into the backyard, finding the back door open a tray of fruit sitting on a table by a char.

_That's weird._

He entered the house with his weapon drawn, locking himself in.

He began searching the entire house for intruders or signs of a struggle. 

Nothing.

Oscar was beginning to hyperventilate.

_Oz? What's going on. I'm scared._

No response.

Everything was just too quiet.

Oscar eventually found a note on Qrow's bed and was a little too eager to read it.

"When you get back, call me. -Ruby"

Oscar frowned. _I really need a scroll._

_What if something happened?_

_Oh no, there's probably been a grim attack._

_I bet they were all out there busy saving the world while I was out busy getting a new outfit._

_Well, when they get back from fighting, they're probably going to want to shower off. I might as well go shower now before there's a line._

Oscar had found the towels in his search for intruders. It wasn't all bad.

Oscar grabbed his PJs and a towel and took a shower.

He was feeling a lot better.

* * *

"Mr. Anderson, I'm with someone else who has run into Oscar today. Do you mind if I put you on speaker?"

"Not at all. Mind if I ask with who, though?"

"It's Bart Hernandez. He runs a bar off of McJennin."

"Oh yeah, he's fine. What was Oscar doing at a bar?"

"Oscar came into my bar looking for his friend Qrow. Qrow looked like a huntsman in his forties. Do you know anything about him, Mr. Anderson?"

"Yeah, he mentioned someone gave him quite a bit of money. That's actually why I called. A kid in a jacket from a homeless shelter suddenly has over a hundred more liens? That raised some questions."

"At my bar, Qrow gave the kid some money. He was drunk, so I doubt he meant to give the kid that much."

"I was hoping to find the kid. I don't think he meant to give me that much lien and I think that whatever his situation is he should get his money back. I don't think he should have parted with that much lien, especially if he's homeless."

"I have the kid's address actually. He wrote it on a napkin to make sure Qrow got home alright. I made a mental note when he wrote it down because I figured I was going to end up calling someone. The two got into a bit of a scuffle, and Qrow ended up hitting the kid. I made good notes of Oscar afterward, including his address."

While the men were sharing, Ms. Ollie pulled up the camera footage. "Do you recognize this kid? He called himself Qrow, but..."

Bart looked at it. "That's definitely Oscar."

"He must not have been comfortable telling me his own name then. Well, in that case, I don't think the fighting is mutual. When **Oscar** came by earlier, he had mentioned someone had hurt him before he came by. From what I can tell, this looks like a bad parenting problem. As much as I want to go after this Qrow guy, I think I owe Oscar an apology. Since he didn't use his own name I had thought he was the one sneaking a drink and getting into fights."

Mr. Anderson sighed. "Well, we can't just show up at his current address, can we?"

Bart shrugged. "I don't see why not."

Ms. Ollie grabbed the coat Oscar had left. "Let me get someone else to take care of the shelter and let's go. What's the address?"

* * *

Oscar stepped out of the shower, smelling of fresh lavender. A bit feminine for his taste, but calming nevertheless. It was better than the fruity shampoo his aunt had gotten him to try. Too many animals thought he would taste as good as he smelled and he couldn't help but disappoint them.

He wrapped a fresh bandage around his neck and put on his PJs. It was still in the afternoon, but Oscar needed to do some laundry and it was a good idea to wash new clothes.

He was about to run the washer when he heard a knock on the door.

Ensuring that his weapon was on his person, he approached. It was probably the team getting back from fighting, and then they could all do one big load of wash. Still, he was cautious as he approached.

He opened the door to see Ms. Ollie. 

"Uh, hi?" He felt his face flush. _Maybe wearing PJs to get the door wasn't my best plan. I mean, this is just so awkward. I looked so formal before too._

"Hi, Oscar, may we come in?" She had a polite tone and a soft smile.

Oscar still felt the panic rise in his gut. Who had told her that he had lied? And who was 'we?'

Oscar opened the door a bit further. It was the bartender and Mr. Anderson. _What happened here?_

"It's not exactly my house to let you in, but it's cold outside, and I'm kind of in PJs. Promise me you'll stay in the living room and I'll let you in."

Ms. Ollie nodded and smiled softly. The PJ's didn't hide the bandaids that circled his neck as well as the other clothes had. He really had been making the most of his collars.

Oscar started to open the door but stopped. "Oh! And when I tell you to leave you don't hesitate. I can't exactly leave so if I'm done with you, you get out. Clear?"

"Of course, Oscar. We all just want you to be okay." The remaining adults all nodded in recognition of Ms. Ollie's statement.

Oscar let them in. He hadn't exactly been trained on how to have house guests on the farm, and he hoped it didn't show.

"I brought you your jacket. Although your new one is very nice, I think you'll appreciate having multiple in Atlas." Ms. Ollie held out the green jacket.

"Are you sure? I really am okay, I'm a very minimalistic person."

She just held out the jacket. Oscar conceded and took it, thankful he hadn't started the laundry yet.

Then it hit Oscar all at once. "If you're here, where is Qrow?" He looked at the bartender quizzically.

"He left soon after you did, actually."

_I bet it's because I made him drink water. Or maybe because I took his money. Or because he felt the bartender was judging him after my freakout at the bar._

_A_ n _d now because of me, Qrow is off looking for a new drinking spot instead of safely where I can tell Ruby to find him._

Seeing as Oscar didn't respond but immediately got lost in thought led all the adults to make eye contact. Something was clearly up.

"Is Qrow where you got all that money?" Mr. Anderson, having the best relationship with Oscar, took the lead.

"Yeah. I figured to drink that often he must have enough money to pay for some combat gear. Did I not give you enough?"

"Oscar, I really wasn't expecting a lien over 17. 141 is a pretty big difference."

"It's fine. Really. He usually pays for stuff. I was supposed to wait and go shopping for gear with Ruby but I kinda went on my own and once I realized I had no money I kinda figured out why I was supposed to go with her."

Ms. Ollie recognized the name Ruby but wanted to know what was going on before sharing that. If Ruby was hostile, it was for the better that Oscar didn't feel hunted. Especially since now that Ms. Ollie knew that Oscar had chosen not to go gear shopping with her.

"Are you sure you don't want some of the money back? It really is more than I usually charge."

"You said anything over 17 liens was a tip. Consider yourself tipped 124 liens." Oscar was proud of his quick math sense.

"That's a large tip. It's usually 20% at the most."

"You're an incredible person, Mr. Anderson. I almost feel like I should have given you more."

Oscar refused to take any of the liens back. 

Oscar was smiling again. Mr. Anderson really had an effect on him. The same one Ruby had on him, but he was too embarrassed to admit it. They were both too sweet.

Everything was going dandy until Bart the bartender noticed the Oscar-sized dent in the wall.

"What happened here?" He had asked, so calmly.

_He probably noticed where Jaune punched the wall over there too._

"I, uh," _No more lying. It's not a big deal. Lying makes it a big deal because it makes it worth hiding. Like there's something bad going on. It was just an argument._ "My friend may have gotten upset earlier is all."

Every adult in the room knew that was suspicious.

"Is that when you got hurt?" Ms. Ollie was so concerned that it scared Oscar. She was scary when she got into protective-mom mode.

"It wasn't Qrow, if that's what you're worried about."

The adults had questions. Oscar decided to elaborate and give evidence.

"He had already gone out drinking..."

_That may have made it worse._

Ms. Ollie was now thankful she hadn't mentioned Ruby and friends coming by. They were definitely not to be trusted if one of them had attacked him.

"Since Atlas closed its borders, there was just a lot of bad news. We were planning on going through the Argus military base, but uh, they're not really cool with it."

"Wait," Mr. Anderson spoke, scrunched up eyebrows, "I thought you were going for school? It should be another month at least until you need to leave."

"I never said that I was going for school. I just didn't correct you. I don't like correcting people."

"Really, Mr. Confident? I never would have guessed."

Oscar let out a soft chuckle. His smile came back. _How do I learn how to make people smile like that?_

"Well, if that's all you had to share, I think you should all go. The huntsmen I'm traveling with will be back soon and they will probably be tired from their mission. I don't want to have to explain how I made three new friends today, they probably won't want to hear it."

As much as that concerned Ms. Ollie as to why would they be upset that he had made friends, she had already overstepped once today and she knew to back off. She pulled Oscar into a tight hug, saying goodbye.

Bart gave the kid an awkward hug.

Mr. Anderson, however, got the sweetest bear hug of his life. The kid just latched onto him.

"It takes real confidence to pull off a shampoo like that with pride, Oscar. You're more confident than you think."

"You have a larger part in that confidence than I really should admit."

Mr. Anderson rubbed circles on the kid's back letting Oscar just enjoy being held.

"How is it that just being around you makes me so happy I can't stop smiling? I wanna learn how to do that for my friends. What's the secret?"

Mr. Anderson's heart melted. "Just keep being you, kid. You're a real gem."

Ms. Ollie was more concerned than before. If Oscar didn't think he made his friends happy just by being around, then he was definitely not in healthy relationships.

The three adults left, each with a very different image of Oscar.

Mr. Anderson saw a boy who was trying to become a better person as he made the world a better place.

Bart saw a victim of violence.

Ms. Ollie saw a child who was afraid of letting anyone in after being hurt before, leaving him isolated and struggling to tell people what was going on in his mind.

None of them were wrong.

Oscar closed the door, locking it, and headed upstairs to do start the washing machine.

It had been a very long day and it wasn't over just yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So classes started up so it'll be longer between chapters. We are reaching the end of this story, which is bittersweet. The next chapter will probably be the last of this story.
> 
> I think given how busy things are now that I'm not on break, I may stick to writing one-shots from here on out so stay tuned for that. I've had a few ideas circulating in my head so I'm excited about that. All of my ideas right now are Oscar content because I think his character has a lot of unhighlighted depth. 
> 
> If you like this take on Oscar, there will probably be more to come if you stick around. :)


	6. Home Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oscar waits for the rest of the team to come home. He ends up coming to terms with life and circumstance. 
> 
> Most importantly, he ends up making a casserole with Oz.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: anxiety attack ahead.
> 
> Just a heads up, the ending will be an actual scene in the show. I hate writing them, but I hope I added enough to make it not feel like reading the script.
> 
> Also, school is extremely time-consuming, but I finally wrote the final chapter!

Oscar stepped out of the closet, feeling confidence radiate through him. The last time he had walked out of the laundry closet, he was a sobbing mess. This time, he just casually walked out and washed his hands of any excess detergent.

Oscar had some time to burn while he waited for the others to get back, and looked around for something to do.

Sure enough, he was able to find a book.

The book was called "The Wizard of Oz." The title written in golden letters on the spine had called to him.

Maybe he just saw the word "Oz" and reached for it, but it was a nice enough font.

_I wonder if Oz has ever read this one._

He flipped through the first few pages, just enjoying the feeling of a book in his hands. 

Oscar looked at the inside page, wondering if it was too new to be something Oz would have seen. The book came out last fall, but the book in his hands felt worn enough to have been loved for a few years.

_Must be a good book. Either that or baby Adrien had some fun throwing it around._

Deciding to chance it, Oscar began to read it. 

He was hooked after chapter one.

Oscar almost didn't hear the laundry machine sing it's song signifying that it was done. He had to resist the urge to yell "I'll get it" to his aunt. She was not home.

No one was.

Oscar just quietly got up, remembering his page number (76, apparently), and moved his laundry to the dryer.

Sitting back down, he turned to read again, noting he was somehow already halfway through it. 

_Have I always been able to read this fast_ _or is this an added Oz thing?_

He got lost in the story again, jumping at the sound of the dryer going off. It wasn't a high pitch beep like the microwave, but the little melody spooked him nevertheless.

Distracted, Oscar didn't make note of the page number.

Oscar fetched his things from the dryer, ignoring the silly fear shooting through his veins. That book was certainly easy to get lost in.

There were a lot of strange parallels to his life and it was intriguing. He wondered what kind of farm Dorothy had lived on.

He wondered if Dorothy felt as scared as he was when she was away from home. She certainly did act very brave.

_Dorothy had silver shoes that the wicked witch wanted to steal. I wonder if Ruby ever feels like the world is out to get her for her silver eyes._

_This book is really messing with my head._

_If I'm getting this lost in the similarities between my life and this fictional story, I must really be losing it._

Oscar frowned to himself, He wished he could dismiss the feeling that there was a wicked witch out to get him from his plagued mind.

_Although, Salem is basically a wicked witch._

_Did Oz write this book or something? This hits too close to home._

_What is this author's semblance, exactly?_

He took his cleaned clothes upstairs into the room where he had been staying and plopped the handful of items onto his bed.

He was quick to fold and pack up his farm gear, laying out his new combat gear on the bed.

He hesitated when he looked over to the green jacket that had kept him warm on his adventure. 

He pulled it up to his chest. The familiar lavender smell hit him. It smelled like home.

Oscar packed away the jacket, deciding that he didn't need to advertise this little adventure.

He wasn't going to lie about it, but he didn't need to leave around something that would bring nothing but questions.

_Do I put on my combat gear? They will want to see it. Eh, might as well._

Switching clothes, he left his PJs on his bed.

He looked in the mirror.

_I look good._

The smile came back.

He took his weapon downstairs with him, now ready if the group came back from a mission bringing trouble with them.

_They don't have Qrow's luck, but still. Team Reckless will always have a knack for making a mess._

He giggled at his nickname for the group. No one needed to know.

They probably wouldn't like being called reckless, no matter how accurate it was.

It fit him too- he was reckless enough to trust the voice in his head and follow the plans made up by a 16-year-old and the bunch of 18-year-olds.

He was 14 pretending to be a grown huntsman.

Reckless was just who he had to be to cope with all the crazy things around him.

_Oz is more strategic._

_Maybe that's why he left?_

_I was being pretty reckless when I told Ruby Jinn's name. I should have heard Oz out._

_Maybe that would have fixed this._

_But if he had kept lying and keeping secrets, maybe it would have been worse?_

Oscar shook off the lack of control he felt, thankful he had the ending of a good book downstairs to distract himself. 

Even if the book had eerily similar issues to his own life, at least the book had an ending.

His heart pounded in his head as he fought off the inevitable headache that came with all the guilt and regret of not knowing how to be helpful.

If they had asked him farm questions, he could really be impressive.

Until this was over, he just needed to focus on the task at hand.

_Maybe I need to leave team reckless and join team strategic. At least then I wouldn't be constantly beating myself up for not thinking things through._

_Oh, who am I kidding? I don't have enough information to be strategic!_

_Maybe that's why Jaune got so mad._

_He was trying to be strategic and he didn't have enough information and so everything was wrong._

_Maybe they're not team reckless, just team desperate._

_And I'm the key to helping them get what they need to get back onboard team strategic._

_I need to be better, for their sake._

Oscar flipped through the pages, trying to find where he had left off.

He was all too happy to stop thinking about reality. Stories always had better endings.

* * *

The book ended all too soon. It was a good ending, but it still hurt that he had finished it. He didn't want it to end. 

Oscar felt tired. And hungry. 

_What time is it?_

Oscar looked at the clock. There was just about an hour to dinner.

_If they've been gone on a mission for a few hours now, they're probably going to come home wiped._

_I should make dinner._

_Maybe Oz will make that casserole with me._

He forced himself up, deciding that being productive would keep him from sulking too much.

* * *

Oscar put the tuna casserole in the oven, a slight smile on his face. It had been nice to cook again, and just get distracted by a simple procedure.

It was nice to know exactly what to do and how to do it for once. Something simple and normal.

It was relaxing.

The urge to work in the kitchen had finally subsided, and he hoped that it made Oz a little more comfortable.

There probably was not a lot of room in his brain for Oz to hide in as most of his mind was filled with worries and woes. He really needed to get his mental health in order, for Oz's sake.

He set the timer and moved back into the living room. Hopefully, everyone would be home before it was ready.

He had made quite a lot of food and he didn't want it to go to waste.

Seeing as he probably had a bit before dinner, he decided to meditate.

_Maybe if I can clear my head Oz can find his way back._

_Why do I want him back so badly?_

Oscar's eyes widened. He plopped onto the living room rug, knowing that Oz would want to hear the justification for that remark.

Oscar forced his eyes shut and focused on the pounding heartbeat in his head.

_Oh no, he heard that. Thought that? How does Oz interact with my thoughts anyway?_

_He can hear them, right?_

_Does he see them? Like I'm living my life and he can just turn the captions on and know what's up?_

_No, that seems silly._

_Maybe he sees the world when I'm controlling my body like I see the world when he's controlling me._

_That must really suck. It's scary._

_But also, nice?_

_It almost feels good to not have to be in control but just watch and comment in the background. It's one less thing to worry about._

_But when we disagree and we fight for control..._

Oscar shuddered. Flashbacks seared through his head and it felt hard to breathe.

It had felt so... wrong. Until that moment Oz had always felt like an imaginary friend- a companion that had joined him in an epic quest to save the world.

But at that moment, he felt **possessed**. There was someone in his mind that was trapping him from all sides and sucking the air out of his lungs like a vacuum.

His skin felt like it was crawling again and Oscar couldn't sit still.

He pushed himself up on shaky legs and paced the room. He would never fully understand how Ren could go into his mind to process it all and still remain perfectly still.

His brain liked to get a physical reaction from him. 

_This was supposed to be a heroic action story, not a horror story._

A new tear was formed and it threatened to fall. Oscar pushed his hands onto his eyes, the pressure making him see bright fuzzy colors. The energy from squeezing his eyes shut far too tight made his face burn.

A choked gasp broke out of him as the tears poured out.

_I wonder if Oz feels this way too._

The small calm voice of inner Oscar had spoken, and a chill was sent down his spine from it's scared little whisper. 

It was getting really hard to inhale.

Oscar didn't hear the timer go off. The screaming in his head was too loud.

He sat on the floor, collapsed, forcing himself to breathe.

He eventually calmed down and headed to the bathroom and splashed water on his face.

Feeling calm again he sat on the couch, waiting for the timer to go off. Curling up into it, he rested his eyes.

_Maybe it will be nice to merge with Oz._

_Then, he can never leave me alone again._

_We would never have to fight over control again._

_And when we get scared we will always have each other._

* * *

There were people outside. He could hear talking outside the door. Oscar put his weapon on his belt and went to investigate.

"Oh! I was wondering when you'd get back." The team had finally made it back home. He looked over at Ruby from the doorway, getting lost in her silver eyes.

_If I didn't have it bad enough before I read that book..._

Ruby's eyes were sparkling. _So shiny..._ Oscar smiled softy, mesmerized. Something moved out of the corner of his eye. He looked over and a wave of panic rushed through him.

"OSCAR!" The group is loud, and Oscar's quiet afternoon had not prepared him for this. _How does Ren handle Nora? This is jarring!_

Nora yelled her battle cry.

Oscar panicked, eyes flinging wide as jaw fell open.

He was attacked by a wild Nora.

Someone had grabbed him and it wasn't long until his back was on the floor, but for once the impact didn't make him afraid.

It was the most reckless and violent group hug he had ever been apart of. He didn't hate it, but he wouldn't go out of his way for it again.

He could hear Yang laughing at him as Ruby pulled him on his feet.

_She must have been right on top of me. And I was staring at her eyes earlier. Yang is not letting me live this down, is she?_

The group crowds around him, leaving just enough space to not crush the tiny huntsman. Ren backed up the farthest, liking his own personal space.

Oscar rubbed the back of his head nervously.

_Now they're all staring at me. What the heck do I say?_

"Uhhhh," was all Oscar got out, feeling his head throb in protest. Whether from the impact or the noise he didn't know.

Everyone was talking to him at once.

"You had also worried sick!" Wiess was wide-eyed at their precious farm boy, sounding like she was upset with a puppy.

"Are you okay?" Ruby was beyond concerned.

"What are you wearing?" Nora was beyond curious.

Oscar just kept rubbing the back of his head nervously, trying to form a coherent sentence, clearly overwhelmed by the sudden attention.

_I can do this. I can be an adult. Just be confident._

He forced his arms down, just trying to get words to form in his mouth other than "uhh".

"Is something cooking?" Terra asked.

_Finally, a question I know how to answer._

"Oh, uh" His body stammered on, trying to snap out of the overload. He forced his shoulders to return to their confident posture. "Yeah, I thought maybe you guys would appreciate a hot meal after..." His confident posture drops as it hits him. 

_There wasn't a mission._

His arms raised back up in a defensive shrug, unsure of what to do with all the mixed emotions spiraling in his brain.

"...spending all day looking for me, apparently." The guilt hits him first, but there's a sweetness to it. It felt nice to be cared about for once. 

"It's my fault we were all out there in the first place," Jaune said as he stepped through the group.

Oscar could feel the fear rise up in his gut, and the doubts roll over him just as quickly as all the good memories. Oscar looked down, too distracted to even notice the floor he was staring at, eyes shifting in his contemplation.

"Oscar," Jaune had conviction in his voice.

Oscar's eyes left their contemplative floor gaze and looked up at Jaune. He had a hand to his chest like an earnest leader and it was endearing on him.

"I am so sorry." Jaune paused. "For earlier." His hand leaves his chest and a hint of sadness and regret enters his features. "I was way, way out of line, and what I said"-

Oscar cut him off, looking just as defensive and emotional as Jaune. "No, it's okay."

Oscar's hands raised defensively. Oscar forced himself to lower his arms from their surrendered position and took a deep breath, visibly calming down.

"These past few days I've been scared of the same things you were." Finally gaining control of himself, his voice falls into a calm lull. "I don't know how much longer I'm going to be... me." 

Oscar looked down at his hands, bothering to appreciate that he could still control them with ease. _I'm not possessed._

Oscar continued. "But, I did some thinking." The confidence returned to him, arms acting under his command, and returning to his Mr. Confident stance. "And I do know that I want to do everything I can to help with whatever time I have left." His resolve showed, but he still sounded calm.

_I will learn to make other people smile and be solid emotional support._

_I will not lie._

_I will be more confrontational and confident when I want to say something._

_I will be as helpful as I can._

_I will be an adult._

There was an acceptance to him. There was also a hint of reflective sadness. Jaune noticed both but knew better than to comment. At least not right now.

"Good." Jaune lets out. It is breathy and relieved, like a spoken sigh of relief. "This team isn't the same without you, Oscar."

For a moment, there is nothing but relaxed silence and soft smiles. Ruby and Oscar make eye contact. _So shiny..._

The smoke alarm sounded off in fast high pitched beeps.

Oscar completely lost composure. 

_This was going so well! Why, Remnant? WHY?_

Everyone else looks stunned but not nearly as shaken. 

Oscar exhales sharply, in fear. Hands raise to head like he's going to pull his own hair out. "The casserole!"

_This could have been fine, everything was going so perfectly no one was mad and it was so happy and-_

Jaunes' sister, Saphron, let out a light chuckle. "We're on it, chef." The homeowners go to handle it.

Oscar is still frozen in his panicked position, mind racing.

"Combat gear looks good," Ruby spoke with confidence and a hint of pride. She took a step towards Oscar. 

Oscar went from frazzled to admiration real quick. 

_They're not mad about dinner. Okay, we are good._

His eyes have a sense of nervous pride to them, a soft smile on his face.

_Such shiny eyes. They're far more enthralling than any story ever told._

Nora has a smug grin on her face. Oscar wasn't even trying to hide how much he looked up to Ruby for approval. His eyes glittered with confidence from the compliment.

The two young huntsmen just stared at each other for a moment. No one wanted to interrupt.

_It's going to be okay._

It felt warm in the house, and Oscar was glad he had a coat to trap it close to his heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Andddddd scene.
> 
> The rest of this story can be seen by watching the show itself. (Volume 6 Chapter 9: Lost. It is the last scene of the episode, like 12+ minutes in, and it's a worthy rewatch. I would know, I watched I to get the correct dialogue. Unless I failed to subtitle it, but I hope not. Seriously, I was surprised how the conversation between Ruby and Qrow totally worked for this story. I was going to add it here, but I'd be writing a script at that point.) 
> 
> I did my best to make this fanfiction feel as close to the characters as possible and I'm proud of how it turned out.
> 
> There will probably be more one-shots to come!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! This is my first fanfiction and I'm excited to be a part of this community.


End file.
